


The Ivy Green

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Batman: The Animated Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-19
Updated: 2007-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1638596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick Grayson, Pamela Isley, and exactly why Ivan the Man-Eating Vine is crawling along his legs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ivy Green

**Author's Note:**

> Happy yuletide! I tried to keep to the feel of Batman: the Animated Series, but focus on Dick. I hope I was able to capture Dick in his lackadaisical and college-going-Boy Wonder glory. Title refers to the Dickens poem. Best wishes for the new year, Nagia! 
> 
> Written for Nagia

 

 

"Mmrph." Dick pulled an arm over his face.

"And a good morning to you, as well, Master Dick." Yep, the curtains were drawn back, and that was the noontime sun cutting across his bed. And soon... He curled around the pillow.

"Nnmm." And there went his sheets. A part of the back of his mind that he wasn't really sure he liked wondered if Alfred was secretly evil.

"The sun is shining, the air is crisp, your books are on the table by the door, and coffee is waiting in the car as soon as you deign to grace the world with your presence."

Maybe not totally evil. Coffee, at least, sounded like a good thing, and Dick cautiously relaxed his muscles, wiggling his toes experimentally.

Yuck. He was still in his tights. Had he taken off the mask? He rubbed his face into the pillow, testing. Yeah. At least that wasn't still on. Bruce would have kittens if he learned Dick had worn just the lower half of his costume, let alone the mask, in the manor.

Alfred's soft tread walked around the bed, soft metallic rustles suggesting that he was probably picking up the other part of his costume. Oops. "Might I suggest a brisk shower before we leave for classes, Master Dick?"

"Not today, Alfred. Please?"

The footsteps paused.

"If you'll recall the terms of our settlement, Master Dick, you'll note that showering was nowhere mentioned. Classes, however, were a key negotiating point. I shall see you in fifteen minutes at the front driveway." The bedroom door clacked shut, Dick was alone.

Oh. Yeah. He curled in tight again, then stretched out as tall as he could, cautiously opening his eyes. Alfred had promised not to tell Bruce about the currently-failing grade in History 304. If Dick would agree to actually attend all of his classes during the week that he was home at the Manor watching Gotham while Bruce tracked down an associate of Cobblepot in Bulgaria.

He rolled to his feet, noting a pull in his left hamstring. The deal hadn't seemed quite so steep a week ago.

After a stumbling walk, the cold shower water didn't do too much to clear his head. It was hard getting the motivation to go to classes at the best of times, but this week he was pulling double duty acting as Robin and as a college student, and he was feeling it. The week was making him realize exactly how lucky he was that he had been home schooled: life as Robin would have been non-existent had he needed to attend an actual school every day. His English classes he could handle after years of parsing sentences under Alfred, and he knew enough street Spanish to impress his professors and fake it on the tests. And he could have passed his logic class at the age of twelve. Western Civ, however, was kicking his butt.

A quick scrape of the towel, jeans, a tee shirt, and a slide down the banister later, and Alfred was handing him a steaming thermos from the front seat of the car. Oh, sweet, sweet caffeination.

\----------------------------------------

"Mmrph." Something smelled sweet, and Dick sleepily turned his head into his shoulder. "Tn mre mnts, `frd."

The back of a hand brushed his cheek, and he fell back into unconsciousness.

\----------------------------------------

A hand landed heavily on his knee and shook it. Dick inhaled sharply, and snapped up straight.

"Mr. Grayson. Nice to see you join the world of the living. Now, can anyone able catch Mr. Grayson up by telling him the name of the infamous tsar we are discussing, and his likely cause of death?"

Oh, this was not good. As his professor's attention shifted, Dick grinned in sheepish thanks at the classmate who'd woken him and blinked his eyes rapidly to wake up. Patrol last night may have been fairly uneventful, but evidentially not enough to keep him awake through a lecture on the early tsars of Russia.

\----------------------------------------

"Terrible!" Dick's body jumped to alertness, then to panic, and his brain struggled to catch up with the all-too-familiar sensation of being pinned down. Something slithered along his left leg, and his arms were pulled behind him. His mask's eyeholes were covered, and his world was dark.

"Why, yes, yes, it is. Surprising that the collaborator of Gotham's Dark Knight would be so discerning. It is quite terrible, and tragic."

Uh oh. Dick knew that voice, and he cast his foggy brain around to try and remember where.

"A crime, really. One for which the citizens of Gotham will pay."

It was a fairly attractive female voice. Dick tried not to notice. The slithering started up again, wrapping itself around his legs to the middle of his thighs.

He flexed his hands in their gloves.

"You know, we'd really be able to talk about this better if I could see you." Hey, it could never hurt to be polite and just ask.

He felt a brush against his chest armor, then his ear. A whispering voice, and -whoa. Ask and ye shall receive, indeed. The cover on his eyes withdrew, and he got an eyeful of the leaves covering Pamela Isley's, erm, front, as she withdrew from him.

"Ivy. I didn't know you were out of Arkham. And did you just talk to that vine?"

"He makes better conversation than any human. And I slipped out when I read of the fate of Angel's Park. Scheduled to be destroyed and replaced by a parking garage. Barbaric."

Slipped out. Arkham really, really needed to up its security measures. Again.

"So, what are you planning to do? I'm pretty sure flower power alone won't stop a bulldozer."

Ivy took a breath. Dick rolled his eyes behind the mask. Here came the speech, the one no criminal could resist. First she'd tell him her plans to destroy peace and order, then try to kill him.

But instead, she took a few steps back, and gestured largely with her arms. Dick looked around. They were in an alley off Ives Street, just a block from the park, and the entire space was filled with a great, looping vine that shifted ominously as he eyed it.

"Oh, don't worry, Boy Wonder. I have complete confidence in my baby here. But first, he's been telling me how hungry he is all night. We were going to wait for the ground breaking, but when we saw you swinging by, well, we just couldn't resist a midnight snack. He pulled you right out of your path."

Well, then. That was how he got here. And, as a bonus, he was right about the death threat's timing. Dick twisted his hands in their gloves. "Isley, you need help. I can get you to someone, just let me loose from here."

She quirked an eyebrow at him and stepped closer. "You don't really expect me to do that, do you? Not while some of my own are in danger."

"Well," he twisted his head to avoid her breath. "It's always worth a try. Someday I'll get lucky."

She edged closer, and Dick moved his gaze over her shoulder, hoping his wriggling would look desperate in only the right way, and that she wouldn't notice his shoulders' twisting movements. Huh. The buds on the vine were the exact shade of brown-orange as Bruce's favorite suit.

Her hands grasped the foliage on either side of his hips, and the vines seemed to reached to hold her as well. "Some would say that about my mission as well." He felt lips brushing the side of his face, and held perfectly still, staring straight ahead. "Only tomorrow, luck won't play a part. Just me and my baby."

All at once, the buds started to move, opening and closing. Dick gave up on subtlety and struggled to free his hands. Just a second with his belt. That was all he needed.

But the flowers were drawing closer to Ivy, not him, and she pulled her head back, tilting it as if to listen. "Police coming here? You're sure? Wait just a minute, and I'll draw them off so we can have our fun."

"Leaf-ing so soon?" Dick wasn't certain his voice was steady, but Ivy barely glanced at him then spun around.

He followed her form dash out of the alley into the streetlight, where her red hair glinted briefly, and went to work on reaching his belt pouches. Batman prepared him for everything, and if he could just get to the second from the right - there. A twist of the short blade, and "Baby" pulled back from his legs. Dick tried to not feel like he should apologize, and dashed out of the alley in the direction of police sirens.

\----------------------------------------

Ivy's capture, like so many before, paled in comparison to its lead-up. Robin caught up to the police with the help of a grapple and a brief spring across the rooftop express, and watched her ducking down a side street. A quick batarang to the back of the head felled her and two officers chasing cuffed her within seconds.

He watched, crouching by a gargoyle, until the Arkham van pulled up and Ivy disappeared inside it, her confused stirrings the promise of a nervous ride for the technicians inside.

Dick wiped his hands against each other and winced. If he even looked half as slimy as he felt, he didn't want to think about what Gordon's reaction would be to him appearing in the shadows of the commissioner's office. He shot off a line in the general direction of the Manor, and leapt.

An anonymous call to the GCPD, placed from the comfort of the cave, warned them to set up barriers around the alley until professionals could be called in. Montoya and Bullock's voices in the background let him know that everyone in the department had been pulled in to deal with the Arkham breakout. They'd be happy to go home to bed.

Dick pulled his mask from his face and rubbed at his eyes. Bed sounded heavenly. He didn't spare a glance at the cave's drafty showers or laundry bins as he started up the stairs, pulling at the collar around his neck. Alfred could deal with the laundry in the morning.

 


End file.
